


get what you give

by taizi



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Families of Choice, Gen, Kid Fic, potential series ?, single parent Nicky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 12:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18499351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taizi/pseuds/taizi
Summary: Nicky is crouched in front of him before he makes any conscious decision to move, cupping the little boy’s chin in one careful hand.It took almost a year to get here, but Neil doesn’t flinch when his hand moves. He leans into the touch, eyes electric blue and stricken. He says, “It was my fault, not Andrew’s. No one will listen to me. Will you tell them?”The vice principal is stepping out from behind the counter to meet him, but Nicky doesn’t get up right away. He faces her, so Neil doesn’t catch so much as the corner of his scowl, and says, “You told me they weren’t hurt.”“Yourboys are fine, Mr. Hemmick. Neil is—““I’m his emergency contact,” Nicky bites out. “Youcall me.”





	get what you give

Nicky checks his phone on a stolen five minute break halfway through his shift to find a forbidding voicemail and an alarming number of missed calls from the middle school office. 

Heart in his throat, he punches redial. The secretary who picks up answers with a mellow sort of cheer that is the opposite of the urgency Nicky needs from her right now.

“Hi, Nicky Hemmick,” he says, right over the tail end of her practiced greeting. “I missed a call about my cousins-- Andrew and Aaron Minyard. Are they okay? What happened?”

Probably the right response is something other than automatic, knee-jerk panic, but this is all Nicky’s got. His break time comes and goes while the secretary has him on hold, and when the line reconnects, Nicky is greeted by the much more efficient vice principal. 

“Your cousins are perfectly fine,” Mrs. McCaffrey says, sounding annoyed in that slick way professionals can get away with over the phone. “It’s a disciplinary issue that we need you here for, Mr. Hemmick, as soon as you’re able.”

His shift at Sweetie’s is another two hours, but one look at his face and the phone clenched in his hand has the other two servers trading knowing looks and assuring him they’d handle the rest of lunch without him. 

“I have kids, too,” Lisa says. “I know how much a little extra help can mean, and you cover for me all the time. Now, scoot.”

“Bring those boys in for ice cream later,” Brian adds. “Something tells me the four of you will need it.”

Thanking a god he only believes in half the time, Nicky all but runs out the door. His car decides to be cooperative today, starting with a putter on his second twist of the starter, and with that he’s tearing across town like a bat out of hell. 

The vice principal said they weren’t hurt, but what  _ happened?  _ Why was she so tight-lipped over the phone? He bends the speed limit, then breaks it, and pulls into the parking lot barely twelve minutes after hanging up the phone. 

Nicky tries not to  _ burst  _ into the office, but he’s pretty sure that’s exactly what he does. He’s still got his waist apron on, his jacket thrown haphazardly on over his uniform, and he all but trips over the front desk in his haste to ask, “I’m here, I’m— Nicky. Where are—“

Before the bemused secretary can speak, a quiet voice says his name, and Nicky turns to find Neil on the bench seat just inside the office door, wearing a black jacket that isn’t his and sporting a colorful bruise on the left side of his face. 

Nicky is crouched in front of him before he makes any conscious decision to move, cupping the little boy’s chin in one careful hand. 

It took almost a year to get here, but Neil doesn’t flinch when his hand moves. He leans into the touch, eyes electric blue and stricken. He says, “It was my fault, not Andrew’s. No one will listen to me. Will you tell them?”

The vice principal is stepping out from behind the counter to meet him, but Nicky doesn’t get up right away. He faces her, so Neil doesn’t catch so much as the corner of his scowl, and says, “You told me they weren’t hurt.”

“ _ Your _ boys are fine, Mr. Hemmick. Neil is—“

“I’m his emergency contact,” Nicky bites out. “You  _ call me _ .”

“Let’s have this discussion in my office, please,” the woman says stiffly.

Well, now he has some idea what this is about.

Nicky gives Neil his keys to hold onto, waiting until some of the anxiety melts out of the boy’s tense shoulders. Neil traces the teeth of the house key with the tip of his finger and gives a little nod, and Nicky turns to follow the vice principal into her office. He only makes it a step inside the door.

“Woah, hey,” he says, when two nine-year-olds throw their full weight against his legs. He kneels, and their tight grips go from his waist to his shoulders. “Hey, c’mon. It’s okay.”

They lift their heads. They don’t look shaken. Andrew’s mouth is pressed into a thin line, and Aaron’s hazel eyes are blazing. They’re  _ mad _ , pint-sized tempers blown, and that settles something in the pit of Nicky’s chest, cold fear receding into the back of his mind for another day. He can deal with this.

“It was Roman’s stupid fault,” Aaron snaps. “Andrew shouldn’t be in trouble!”

“Language,” Mrs. McCaffrey says, and Nicky doesn’t give in to the childish urge to glare at her. The boys do it for him a second later, anyway.

“How about you tell me what happened,” Nicky says. “Does this have anything to do with Neil’s bruise?”

“Roman’s a stupid fifth grader. He doesn’t like Neil ‘cause Neil beat his time on fitness day. He ran a mile in like six minutes, a minute and something faster than Roman,” Aaron says. His tone is a conflicted mix of pride and aggravation, pulled in two different directions by this bully and his best friend. “Today at recess Roman and his friends pushed Neil behind the bleachers but me and Andrew saw him.”

“You should have gone to a teacher immediately,” McCaffrey scolds them. “We don’t tolerate bullying of any magnitude. I know we went over the policy together at length when Andrew enrolled. If you boys had gone to a teacher, Roman would have been disciplined for his actions and the two of you wouldn’t be in trouble in the first place.”

“But Neil would have been beat up worse than he already was,” Aaron shoots back. “He shouldn’t’ve got beat up  _ any _ .” 

His hands are clenched in Nicky’s shirt. Andrew is a golden shadow at his side, a mirror image of frustration. 

If they were as big as all their caring, Nicky thinks, they’d probably be ten feet tall. 

“What happened when you two got there?” Nicky presses. He looks at Andrew this time, not liking how nonverbal the older twin has been so far. “Drew?”

He doesn’t answer for a long minute. His hands are shoved deep into his pockets. Nicky doesn’t push, and neither does the vice principal. Finally, giving each word up as though they cost him something, he says, “They were trying to pull off Neil’s shirt. They make fun of him for wearing long sleeves in PE sometimes.”

Dread creeps into Nicky’s chest and sets up camp there. 

Neil guards his scars like his life is on the line, with a violent desperation better suited a drowning man than an eight-year-old boy. Nicky has seen them a few times, but never for very long, and only because Neil trusts him enough to part with his hoodie every now and then, for just as long as it takes Nicky to run a load of laundry. 

Nicky is sick to his stomach at the mental image of Neil cornered by older boys, struggling to keep his ruined skin covered.

“He kept saying no and they wouldn’t stop,” Andrew goes on. “I made them stop.”

Nicky bites the inside of his cheek, but it doesn’t stop his heart from breaking. He pulls his boys in closer, squeezing them tight, and says, “Yeah, you did. I’m so proud of you.”

“Mr.  _ Hemmick, _ ” the vice principal says, scandalized. “We do not  _ reward  _ this behavior.”

“Can you guys wait for me outside?” Nicky says, and they look up at him with trust in their eyes. Nicky would pretty much set himself on fire to safeguard that trust. “Neil could use the company. I just need to sort some stuff out here, and then we’ll head home for the day, okay?”

Aaron nods, and Andrew leads the way to the door. Only when it’s closed behind them does Nicky look at the vice principal. The fear and worry and anger gives way, and it’s all he can do not to shout. 

It’s public school. What can he really expect from public school? 

“Mr. Hemmick-- “

“I’m _one more_ “Mr. Hemmick” away from causing a scene. I mean, a full-on scene. You knew when we came to you at the beginning that there were conditions. You promised them a safe environment. You promised you had staff with the right kind of training, to give them proper attention. You, personally, yourself, sat down in a meeting with their therapist so none of this would come as a surprise. We discussed this for so long. We _talked_ about how traumatized kids might act out, and you signed off on everything with perfect confidence and all the right, pretty things to say to make me think they’d be okay here, and this-- this isn’t even the first issue we’ve had this year. And it’s barely November. What the hell is wrong with you?”

The woman sits behind her desk, looking slightly paler than she was when she greeted him. She shuffles papers for a moment, to give her hands something to do, Nicky guesses, and then waves him toward a chair.

“I apologize,” she says, and she sounds tired. “Please sit. Let’s discuss this from the beginning.”

By the time he joins the boys in the waiting room, someone had the good sense to get them something to drink. They’re all sitting in a huddle, clutching little paper cups, and look up in unison when Nicky comes over. 

“Sorry, Nicky,” Neil says immediately, even though it makes Andrew pinch his arm. 

“Are we still in trouble?” Aaron asks indignantly while his best friend and brother scuffle to one side.

“‘Course not, what do you take me for?” Nicky ruffles his blond mop. “Extra meetings with the counselor during the week, but we were talking about that anyway, right?” At their round of nods, he gestures toward the door. “C’mon, Neil. I signed you out, too.”

“Did they call my mom?” 

“No, kiddo, they didn’t. It’s alright.”

Nicky shepherds them toward the car. Neil says, “Thanks for your jacket, Andrew. Do you want it back?” and Andrew says, “No, idiot,” and Aaron says, “At least we got out of English. I hate English.” Nicky rolls his eyes at their rabble and makes sure seatbelts are buckled and doors are shut before he turns them onto the road home. 

He has the morning off tomorrow, and a call from Erik to look forward to tonight. Neil will probably sleep over, so Nicky will order in, make dinner a little special, to take the last stressful edge off the events of this afternoon. With any luck, the worst is behind them for now. 

Nicky recognizes Aaron’s favorite song when it comes on the radio, a few seconds before Aaron does. He turns it up loud, smiling at the delighted little hoot from the backseat, and lets the kids all scream along for the rest of the ride home.

**Author's Note:**

> don't give up, you've got a reason to live  
> can't forget, we only [get what we give](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DL7-CKirWZE)


End file.
